


Dangerous Liaisons

by PixieKisses



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Demigod Original Male Character, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff and Smut, Magical Pregnancy, Mount Olympus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Nymph Hermione Granger, Satyr Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixieKisses/pseuds/PixieKisses
Summary: After discovering the truth behind her kins disappearances, Hermione with help from Hermes sets out to correct this terrible wrong, and save her family from a fearsome sea dragon.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Hermes, Hermione Granger/Hera, Hermione Granger/Zeus
Kudos: 4
Collections: Hermione Granger Mythical Creatures Fest 2020





	1. Act I

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [1st_HG_Mythical_Creatures_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/1st_HG_Mythical_Creatures_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Nymph
> 
> I want to say a massive thank you to my beta for all their hard work with this fic. They are truly amazing, and I am incredibly thankful for their dedication and time.

For as long as she’d been alive, Hermione had never once gotten bored of her home on Mount Olympus. There was always someone to talk to — until the birth of Hercules. Her sisters passed through the halls in silence, avoiding the sharp gaze of the Goddess Hera and the amorous advances of Zeus who liked nothing more than to take a willing nymph to his bed. Hermione had yet to have that pleasure. Whenever he walked into the room with electricity radiating from every pore, Hermione had to hold her breath. Zeus was striking, with a strong jaw, and pale blonde hair that made his ocean-blue eyes pop. He rarely wore clothing, preferring to bask in his naked form. It was only when he visited the mortals that he even bothered to wear clothing. 

Hermione picked up a broom and began sweeping the large corridor outside of the banquet hall, completely lost in her thoughts of _him,_ when a tiny Satyr child peeked around one the massive marble columns holding a set of panpipes to his lips and attempted to blow. His small giggles as disjointed music filled the large space tugged at Hermione’s heart. Humming along, she began to dance, making the child’s eyes shine bright with happiness. She twirled and spun, making her way over to him before bending down and pressing a small kiss to his cheek, making the Satyr blush before running away on tiny hooves.

“That was sweet of you,” A deep booming voice said, making Hermione jump and spin on the spot.

Her cheeks burned scarlet at coming face to face with the man who haunted her dreams. For so long, she had been left with damp thighs and an ache between her legs that no Satyr had ever been able to soothe.

“My apologies. I didn’t see you standing there,” Hermione said as she moved to continue her task. 

“There is no need to apologise. It does the Satyrs good to think they can woo a beautiful woman,” Zeus replied, catching her small hand with his own, brushing his lips across it.

Hermione felt herself swoon at the touch. She’d never been one to pander at the feet of the Gods, but Zeus was another being, entirely. He held himself with such confidence and poise that she felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Every time he walked into the room, Hermione’s legs grew weak.

“Was there something you needed?” Hermione asked her voice a breathy whisper as she lost herself in his ocean-blue eyes that were sparkling with joy and a touch of something she couldn’t identify.

“You,” Zeus said as he pulled her flush against his firm, chiselled chest.

“I need to finish sweeping the halls. Your wife...she gets most upset if we don’t continue,” Hermione spluttered in surprise. Her body felt hot from where his hand pressed against her hip, and she could feel moisture pooling between her legs and drip down her thighs.

“You don’t need to worry about my wife, nymph. Come, have a drink with me,” Zeus suggested leading her away from her discarded broom and into his bed-chamber.

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat as her eyes landed on the large luxurious bed covered with silks in whites, golds, and cerulean blues. It reminded her of the sky. Her fingers itched to feel the material. The loss of his hand on her waist brought her back to reality. Smiling, she accepted the overflowing gold rhyton and sipped it. The burst of sweetness that coated her tongue was exquisite. Not many nymphs got to taste the sweet black wine the gods drank. They were usually given the paler sour wine which, whilst still palatable, was nothing like the nectar she had been given.

“My son, Dionysis, provided me with a fresh amphora just this morning. He truly does have a gift,” Zeus explained as he drank his own, blue eyes watching her face and taking pleasure in the way her eyes lit up.

“That he does. I’ve never left the halls. My sisters are more the adventurous type. Tell me, are the mortals as brutal as people claim?” Hermione asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Some yes,” Zeus replied, cocking his head to one side. “What is your name?” He asked as he approached her.

“Hermione. My name is Hermione.”

“Beautiful,” Zeus said as he dipped his head and captured her lips with his own.

Surprised, Hermione dropped the rhyton, which clattered to the floor. She expected Zeus to get angry and throw her out. Instead, he lifted her as though she weighed nothing at all. And deposited her in the middle of the bed. He loomed over her, muscles rippling beneath his skin. Hermione bit her lip in anticipation. Never before had she even been at the mercy of a God. 

“Tell me, Hermione. Have you ever graced the bed of my brothers?” Zeus asked as he slowly undressed her.

Hermione shook her head, not able to trust her voice at that moment. She had dreamed of this for years. Finally, here he was devouring her mouth with his own as his hands cupped her breasts and toyed with her nipples. She felt her core flutter with need and a gush of arousal flow from within her.

“My sons?” He asked as he dipped his head to suck at her nipples, first one then the other.

Hermione gasped, back arching into his mouth, losing herself in the sensations he was creating. “No,” She whispered as her fingers tangled in his blond hair.

“Good,” He said with lust-filled eyes as he kissed down her body before reaching her cunt. 

Unlike most nymphs who tended to keep their body hair, Hermione had never been a fan of her own, and so from the moment she came into her womanhood; she had removed it. The look on his face when he saw her bare pussy was a sight to behold. His thick, long cock jutted out from his body, and already she could see evidence of his arousal. A tiny bead of precum glistened on the swollen head. Hermione licked her lips. The need to wrap her lips around it and pleasure the beautiful God before her; was overwhelming. Never before had she felt so beautiful. So wanted. 

Suddenly his tongue was exploring her folds, making Hermione cry out in pleasure. Each swipe of his tongue sent jolts of pleasure straight to her cunt. She needed more. No...she wanted more. She wanted to feel him inside her, stretching her cunt. Filling her with his seed. Hermione never wanted this moment to end. His lips were suddenly wrapped around her sensitive bud. 

Endless moans dripped from her lips until all she could, see, smell and feel, was him driving her mad with infinite pleasure. Hera could walk in at any moment, and she would not give him up no matter what the goddess demanded. Hermione’s hips thrust in time with his talented tongue until she spiralled into pleasure like never before. Her pussy fluttered and clenched, and she screamed his name as her vision went white, as the tight heat in her abdomen exploded in an array of colour.

Hermione felt him withdraw and was about to cry out in displeasure when suddenly he was inside her, in one full stroke. Clutching at his muscular shoulders, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he began thrusting in and out of her walls, flaming the fires in her belly once more. Their lovemaking was swift and brutal. Most men treated her like a delicate flower that was quickly broken but here he was, loving her like no one had before, and Hermione was falling. One final stroke and he was filling her, pumping her full of his seed. It was hot and coated her walls.

Sated, he rolled off her body, collapsing onto the silk sheets beside her. She felt empty and full, all at the same time. Feeling bold, Hermione turned and pressed her lips against his. She felt him smile before pulling her close. She draped a leg over his waist as they explored each other’s mouths. He tasted sweet from the wine, salty from their lovemaking, and electric all at the same time. Moving, Hermione straddled him rolling her hips against his half-hard cock, desperate to have him filling her once more.

“By the gods, you’re exquisite,” Zeus commented against the creamy white skin of her neck as he stiffened under her.

Hermione moaned as he lifted her hips, guiding her over his member. She sunk onto him, whimpering as he stretched her cunt that was still slick from his seed, and her arousal. Slowly Hermione set a gentle pace, memorising every inch of his beautiful cock. He seemed content with the change, as he rested his head on his arms, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read. Hermione threw her head back, riding him now with wild abandon, breasts bouncing wildly as her body sought out more of that sweet release. His hands were now on her hips, guiding her movements as his lips wrapped around her left nipple and sucked like a newborn babe. Squealing in delight, Hermione clutched at his head, as the tight ball of heat grew more substantial.

“Oh...oh…” Hermione gasped huskily as Zeus played her body with expert precision.

“Come for me, nymph,” Zeus ordered as he began meeting her thrust for thrust.

Hermione screamed once more as her walls clamped around his now pulsating cock, milking him dry. It felt as though her body couldn’t get enough of him. Needed more of him. She knew the consequences of bedding a god. Of what it meant to have one fill you with their seed and she found herself smiling. Even if their coupling were to be short-lived, she would forever have a piece of him with her. The feeling of him spilling into her once more was the best in the world. He had her heart, and now her body. And in return, she would bear him his child.

Hermione had no memory of falling asleep. The cool silk sheets felt incredible against her skin, but the strong arms holding her close was even better. Turning in his arms, she blushed when she noticed him watching her, fingers stroking her wild curls.

“I’ve had my share of women, Hermione. Mortals, goddesses, nymphs-” Zeus said, his voice a delicious warm cadence that had her body trembling once more, “Insatiable nymph,” Zeus chuckled amused by the lust in her eyes.

Hermione smiled, snuggling closer to his warmth with a happy sigh. “Why does it feel different with you?” Hermione asked, looking up at his handsome face.

“You’ve never been with a God before. We know how to make women tremble with the barest of touches. You, however, seem to be most responsive,” Zeus said in observation as he ran a finger between the valley of her breasts and stopped just before her cunt.

Hermione shivered. “Maybe I should bed more Gods,” Hermione teased, laughing when he pinned her to the sheets, barring her from leaving his bed.

“The only God you were built to bed is me, Hermione. I refuse to share you,” Zeus said firmly, eyes flashing dangerously.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. Why should he get to keep her, yet she had to share him with others. Life wasn’t fair. If she’d been born a goddess and not a nymph, she might have stood a chance. However, it seemed fate had other plans.

“I’ve only ever wanted you but, you’ve always been more interested in others,” Hermione said, honestly, placing her hand against his cheek affectionately. 

“Then why have you always avoided me?” Zeus asked, kissing her palm gently.

Hermione’s mouth opened and closed. She hadn’t expected him to ask her that. Had she been avoiding him? If anything she felt like she was always sent elsewhere. 

“I was always sent away whenever you were home. I...I couldn’t avoid you if I tried,” Hermione said as she felt the first prickle of tears. She couldn’t cry in front of him. He’d think she was just another silly nymph.

Zeus’ eyes darkened with rage, “Hera always did like to interfere. Never mind her. You’re mine now, Hermione, at last. For years, I have watched you blossom and grow, and finally, I get to have you,” Zeus said as he pressed his lips against hers in a bruising kiss.

The door to his chambers banged open, revealing a furious Hera whose eyes flashed dangerously, as she stalked towards them. Zeus scrambled off Hermione and began trying to appease his wife to no avail. Hermione wanted the ground to swallow her up and send her to the deepest, darkest bowels of the Underworld than have to deal with a pissed off Goddess. Her wish, unfortunately, was not granted. 

Hermione yelled as Hera grabbed a fistful of her hair, dragging her out into the corridor past her sisters, who gasped and pointed. Hermione struggled against her hold, but she wasn’t strong enough. The last thing Hermione remembered before the world turned black was Zeus screaming his wife’s name.


	2. Act II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all is as it seems on the island of Kretos.

Months had now gone by, and Hermione sat in the window seat of her prison looking out at the calm blue sea listening to the birds call, and the mortals go about their business hauling in nets brimming with silverfish squirming within their confines. She knew how that felt to be a prisoner. Hera had taken her here. It was both a blessing and a curse. Placing a hand on her swollen stomach, she smiled when she felt the life inside her kick. He would be strong like his father: A god amongst men. He would sit next to his father, and together they would rule the skies.

Rising awkwardly, she wandered around her chamber. It was sparse yet richly decorated with beautiful silk tapestries and delicate fripperies. Hermione had thought he might have come to see her, but he stayed away. The only other person she saw was one of her sisters who would be acting as a midwife once her time came. 

A flutter of wings had her turning in surprise. Stood bathed in sunlight was the unmistakable silhouette of Hermes, messenger to the Gods.

“Do you come bearing a message?” Hermione asked curiously though she could see no scroll in his hands.

“I do not. I’ve been watching you, nymph. Watching your body change and grow as you provide my father with another son. Was it worth it? Spreading your legs for a God who doesn’t even seem to care?” Hermes replied, stepping down off the marble ledge and throwing himself onto the nearest couch.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed at the vulgarity of his words. “What is it to you?”.

“I mean, you no disrespect. After all, you will be bringing my brother into the world. However...I feel my father has done you a disservice. He’s bedded you and cast you aside like gone off wine.  _ I _ would never have allowed you to be treated so poorly. And to be locked away from your sisters, and the outside world. Well, I can imagine how sad your soul must be to be so very far away from your forest,” Hermes replied with a small bow, as he kissed the back of her hand.

Hermione wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. It was true that Zeus had not been to see her, but she’d convinced herself that he was merely busy and didn’t have the time to pander to the whims of a pregnant nymph.

“He’s simply busy,” Hermione echoed aloud in a quiet voice as she turned away from and over to the large copper bowl laden with ripe fruits. Picking up a plump fig, she tore it open before popping a section into her mouth.

“Busy with your sisters, yes. Only this morning I discovered him seducing Ginerva,” Hermes replied, watching her with a careful expression.

"Why are you here, Hermes? Don't you have messages to deliver?" Hermione snapped irritated with the casual way he had imposed himself on her solitude and was now draping himself across her furniture.

Hermes rose gracefully to his feet, a deep scowl on his face as he approached making Hermione falter and take a couple of steps backwards.

"Listen to me  _ very _ carefully nymph. You are not special. You are not carrying my father's heir, nor will you ever sit as his side as his wife. Hera was kind to you. The souls in Tartarus suffer a kinder fate than your kin. Haven't you ever wondered where your more ‘adventurous’ sisters disappear to? Why have some never returned to these halls? The only reason you are here is that Hera hopes her ‘mercy’ will stave off Zeus from his next dalliance." Hermes explained, looking pained at having to reveal such a truth.

Hermione looked at him in shock, not quite sure whether to believe him or not. She was aware that nymphs had disappeared from the halls of Mount Olympus but this...this was different. If what he was saying was true, then something was very, very wrong. Why were her sisters being punished for the follies of the Gods? 

“How can I trust that what you say is the truth? It might just be one of your tricks,” Hermione finally said after a long stretch of silence that was practically deafening in the large room she was living in.

The haunted look in his eyes was telling enough, but when he picked up a jug of fresh water and poured into the basin, Hermione couldn’t help but move closer. Her fingers kissed the surface of the water, creating tiny ripples that got bigger and bigger before clearing. There, reflected at her, was a wasteland. Trees were far and few between and so barren that her very soul began to weep. The image moved to show her sisters past and present fighting over tiny puddles of water whilst their children looked about with hollow eyes and empty bellies in their attempts to digest the rough inedible bark and twigs that littered the sandy floor. 

“Take me there,” Hermione declared as she cradled her rounded abdomen. Bile rose in her throat, but she forced it back down, not wanting Hermes to think her weak.

“There is no coming back from the island, Hermione. Only Gods can travel where they like. You are safer here,” Hermes replied, shaking his head in refusal.

“You came to me for a reason, Hermes and I don’t think it was to scold me for my poor life choices. Out of all my kin, you chose me. I can’t see where your motivation lies yet, but I’m sure in time, it shall reveal itself. Now, take me to the island,” Hermione informed him stubbornly as she set about packing a few essentials plus large amphoras filled with water, wine and an array of fruits. Her sisters needed her, and there was nothing that was going to stop her from saving them.

“You truly are a kind-hearted creature, if not a little mad,” observed Hermes dark eyes radiating trust and happiness at that moment.

“And you are as much a champion of the people as you are a God, if not a little in denial.” quipped Hermione as she double checked everything was ready.

“And I shall continue to do so, I suppose.” Hermes chuckled, unpinning something from his tunic, “We may never meet again. Here, for your child, a token of protection. As he grows, may it serve him well.”

Hermione was surprised at the strength he had when he lifted her into her arms and flew them over vast oceans and land before landing on a sandy shore. The moment her feet hit the ground, he disappeared, leaving very much alone. Squaring her shoulders, Hermione warily made her way towards the centre. If she hadn’t seen the reality of the island, she would have believed it to be abandoned. There was not a scrap of life anywhere: no birds, no insects, no animals and no kin. 

The sudden sound of shouting had Hermione almost crouching behind a sizeable broken boulder. The voices got louder and louder until there, approaching, was a nymph Hermione hadn’t seen since her birth. Her mother was dragging a blonde-haired nymph roughly across the uneven ground towards a part of the island Hermione had yet to explore. Her interest piqued, Hermione followed at a sedate pace. She wasn’t quite ready to reveal herself to the others just, however. 

“This chalkòs kleptēs _must_ be punished! I, Bellatrix have caught this kleptēs hoarding food and water to give to her weakling of a child when I, who have been like a mother to you, am forced to watch my own children wither into dust. An example must be made!” Bellatrix declared loudly, staring down any who may oppose her.

“Where is your proof, sister?” A tall, willowy nymph asked with long flowing blonde hair and the bluest eyes Hermione had ever seen. How had this beauty been discarded here instead of being paraded through the halls? Hermione didn’t know, but she was determined to find out.

“Proof?! I have your proof here. Speak! Tell them what you have done!” Bellatrix responded as she forced the nymph in her clutches to her knees, ignoring the creature’s desperate pleas and cries for mercy. 

Thin, sickly-looking roots rose through the parched ground and encircled the nymph’s wrists. Seeing her kin struggling against the meagre restraints, Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Enough!” Hermione decreed as she stepped forward alerting the nymphs around her to her presence. “What has happened to you, sisters? Why do you fight so?” Hermione asked, walking purposefully into the circle of nymphs, back straight and head held high.

“You dare interrupt council business?” Bellatrix asked, eyes flashing dangerously. Under normal circumstances, Hermione wouldn’t dare cross the powerful nymph before her, but here in this wasteland, she was about as powerful as a puff of smoke.

“This youngling is right. We should not be fighting amongst ourselves. Come child, say what you have to say,” A dark-haired nymph said from Hermione’s right.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione walked further into the group of nymphs feeling a connection to each one of them. The bond amongst her kind was as strong and unyielding as that of the fates. Ignoring the harsh glare from her Mother, Hermione turned until she was facing the entire council.

“I have come here to help you all. I was delivered here by Hermes himself who told me of your plight. I mean you no harm, nor disrespect. I simply want to help you right the wrongs that have been imposed on you by others. There is no reason why we cannot flourish even in such barren land like this. I come bearing food and water for the children so that they may grow healthy and strong. The amphorae from my confinement are still enchanted, made to refill at the dawn of the day.” Hermione said as she revealed the items she had brought with her. 

“With these, we can restore ourselves to glory and make the Gods pay for their unjust cruelty. We bear them sons and daughters only to be discarded like undrunk wine. Without us, they would have no trees, no mountains and no flowers in which to carry out their seductions. I too, was seduced, and it was not until now that what I thought to be protection was in reality imprisonment.”

The council members clamoured around her as they began rationing out her gifts, ensuring that each inhabitant would not be forgotten. Hermione felt a surge of pride at being able to assist those who needed it the most. So enraptured was in watching the way her sisters came together that she overlooked tiny roots creeping up her legs until they curled around her thighs. Gasping, Hermione flailed as she tried to get her balance. Unfortunately, her condition made this task a lot more complicated than usual until the blonde nymph who had been bound by her Mother reached out a stabilising hand, a small smile on her lips. 

“Release her at once Bellatrix! She said it herself. She means to aid us not hinder us. Not everything that happens here on Keros must be approved solely by you. We formed this council, sister, for survival. Embrace this gift with us,” The willowy nymph argued as her skirts fluttered around her ankles in the strong sea-breeze.

The roots instantly retracted as the nymph in question stormed away in anger. Hermione watched her mother leave with sadness in her eyes. She yearned to reach out for her and take comfort in her arms as she had done as a youngling. But now was not the time. She had more important things to do. Hermione followed her kin at a sedate pace along the vast stretch of beach before coming to an archway made of twisted roots and vines. Even in its sparseness, she could see the beauty in its construction. 

Hermione gasped as half a dozen if not more children ran towards them, eyes wide and hands open expectantly. She wasn’t sure what to make of it all but quickly realised this was normal when her kin began handing out small cups of water and plates containing small handfuls of grapes, ripened figs, olives, pistachios and thin slivers of salted fish. Expecting the children to eat with gusto, she was pleased to see them share with children even younger than them. They’d genuinely built a remarkable, caring community and yet she could sense there was something darker lurking beneath the surface. Something twisted and dangerous. Her mother, she deduced seemed to be all for punishing the young nymph but what that entailed she had no clue.

“Come child. You can stay with us,” The dark-haired nymph from the council meeting said gently guiding Hermione over to a makeshift tent that looked like it had been made from the sails of an abandoned ship.

“Thank you,” Hermione said politely, accepting a cup of watered-down wine, “What did my mother want to do to my sister?”.

Hermione watched the nymph stiffen slightly before turning to face her with a haunted look in her eyes, “We never talk about it. Do not mention this to the others. It will only frighten them if they knew. We would lose any control we have.”

“But what of the children? You can’t just keep living like this. It’s barbaric!” Hermione exclaimed passionately recalling the horrors she had seen within the basin.

“We have no choice! We are prisoners here. There is no escape. Everyone who has tried has ended up in the bowels of a fearsome sea-monster, Cetus. A monstrous serpent, he circles the island, consuming every desperate nymph that has dared to wade through the shallows . We must all do what we must to survive. That is what your mother was proposing. To feed Damia to Cetus. It is our way.” The nymph replied, looking saddened by her confession.

“Then we must defeat it! Band together so that we can prove to the Gods that we will not be silenced,” Hermione declared, looking at her sister in horror. She tried not to picture how many of her kin had been fed to the beast.

“Your bravery is commendable. But how are you, a nymph close to birthing your child, going to defeat it? Where is your sword? Where are your arrows? You have nothing. You are nothing. Just a silly little waif who allowed herself to be seduced by a God who discarded her at the first opportunity of trouble,” Her sister snapped, eyes flashing dangerously whilst Hermione looked at her in outrage.

“You have me mistaken, sister. I am not so easily led astray. Forgive me. I came to ease your pain, to assist my kin and to fight back against those who have deemed us unworthy. You do not wish to be freed because, if you were, your power would be lost. I may not have the weapons of mortals nor the power of the Gods, but I have something much more important. I have my pride, my self-worth and my love for my kin. I refuse to sit here a moment longer whilst our children wither and die, and our magic grows weak,” Hermione said as she placed down her cup and stood to take her leave.

“You are right. Perhaps we have lost our way. The younger ones will be easier to persuade, but nymphs like your mother will not be so readily convinced. She has lost too much — your brothers and sisters. Yet, the chance of revenge might be the way to her heart,” The dark-haired witch replied with a tender smile as she reached out a hand towards Hermione.

Night fell swiftly plunging the island into freezing darkness. Hermione huddled under her blanket and had just fallen asleep when the sharp sound of wailing jolted her awake. It took her a moment before she remembered where she was and why she was there. Her sister marched past a lamp held above her head as she disappeared into the night. Hermione pulled a blanket around her shoulders and quickly followed narrowly missing low-running branches. 

She froze when she saw that nymphs were running towards the shore, children clutching at their skirts with wide, hungry eyes. There, closest was her mother who was being restrained by her sisters in their attempt to stop her from throwing herself, into the sea. Hermione wasn’t sure why until a large-scaled head breached the surface, revealing razor-sharp teeth as it roared awaiting its next feast.

“Bella, please! This isn’t the way!” The blonde nymph shouted above the noise as Bellatrix was dragged back towards the ground.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Cissy!” Bellatrix shrieked, eyes wide with grief as she continued to struggle.

“Hush, Trixie. You’re upsetting the children.”

~*~

Days went into weeks and then to months, and before she knew it, Hermione was bearing down on a crudely made birthing chair. Her hair was plastered to her face as her skin poured with sweat. Exhausted, Hermione felt another contraction tear through her body. The feeling of her mother supporting her from behind gave her a comfort she didn’t know she needed until then. The midwife was crouched at her feet, hands wrapped in a rough blanket as Hermione slowly but surely birthed her son. His piercing cry brought tears to her eyes, and she cradled the swaddled infant close to her chest, taking in his tiny features. She could already feel his power radiating off him like static. There was no denying which God he belonged to. 

Watching her son grow and thrive in a world where his cousins perished was both a blessing and a curse. Her kin was starting to grow restless, and their resentment was no longer concealed behind fake smiles and harsh whispers. Leandros was a miniature copy of his father. Even the way he conducted himself amongst the nymphs reminded Hermione of her love for him. But the fondness in her heart for his father waned. For as the years crept by, new arrivals continued, and with them, tales and news from Olympus. Zeus continued his conquests and continued to cast them aside. His conflicts with Hera grew more fierce, enough to crack thunder through the skies. 

Rumours say that the many he bedded now were more out of spite than simple amusement. At times, in the presence of Hera, he would deny any claim that their offspring would be his. In their grief and humiliation, some of her sisters fled Olympus. Some to the territories of man, and others, to the shock of all on the island, to the Underworld. Determined to have her son reflect none of his father’s proud nature, she ensured he participated in the efforts to vitalise their prison. 

With the seeds of the grapes and figs, she had gifted to her sisters. Hermione, alongside her kin, taught him and their children to treat the sprouts with care. Instilling lessons of kindness, humility, compassion, Leandros would be his own person, Hermione decided. And as the land slowly flourished to restore the strength of her sisters, his own power too could grow.

The day her son turned eleven, she was woken by the sound of screaming, carried by the winds from the shore. Noticing that Leandros was missing, Hermione ran out into the dawn, drawn towards the piercing sound. There she saw her son slaying the feared Cetus as though it were nothing more than a pesky viper. In the rising light, a sword glinted from his hand. Around his neck was the amulet Hermes had given her the day he brought her to the island. Every attack made by the wicked creature seemed to bounce off Leandros' skin. It was as though he were wearing the finest of armour.

Leandros whooped in delight not caring that he was covered in blood and guts from the sea dragon. Turning, he waved wildly at his mother, who quite frankly didn’t know what to make of what she had witnessed. Her son ran on strong legs across the sand, blond hair shining in the early morning light. Raising her eyes, Hermione sent a silent prayer to the sun God who’s golden chariot was beginning to stream across the sky. Her gaze trailing across the weapon on his hand, her eyes widened at the design at the hilt. The crossguards fashioned to resemble the fins of a turtle, the pommel etched with the patterns of its shell. Hermes. Glancing over at her son for any cuts or gashes, she could see that the little token he had once given her was nowhere to be found. For protection, he once said. Oh, the Gods indeed had a wicked sense of humour. 

“Congratulations, my son. I hope you won’t forget to thank your sister Artemis before breakfast. Without her at your side, you would never have managed such a feat,” Hermione said, leading him over to the surf, scooping up handfuls of seawater so she could cleanse him.

“Of course, mother. Do you think my father saw me?” Leandros asked with wide innocent eyes.

“How could he not? I’m sure he is most proud,” Hermione said earnestly not wanting to crush her son’s love for a God who he’d never met.

“HERMIONE! IT IS BLESSED NEWS! COME SEE!” Andromeda called from the horizon, beckoning them over.

Hand, linked with that of her son’s they wandered over to their kin, following her to the other side of the island. This had always been uninhabitable, and so most tended to avoid it. However, there lying against the sand was a ship large enough to give them passage back to Mt. Olympus and their homes. Five figures walked out of the surf, their skin encrusted with the tiny salt crystals.

“Your son has defeated Cetus, and for this, we have deemed him most worthy. Please accept this gift from my kin to yours. No longer will this island be a prison. Poseidon himself has agreed to dash it to the bottom of the island,” The eldest sea nymph said, looking most pleased with finally being able to assist her sisters.

The journey was long, but they didn’t meet a single storm. Poseidon truly was guiding their passage home. The Gods had a lot to answer for, and Hermione was determined to get justice even if she had to give up her immortality to achieve it. The broad peak of Mount Olympus came into view, and the entire ship fell silent. This would be the last time they ventured in the halls of the Gods before disappearing back into their forests, rivers and lakes.

The steps to the top seemed endless, and yet none of them wearied. The thick golden gates swung open. With determined looks on their faces and heads held high, children at their sides they marched on and on until they came to the main hall belonging to Zeus. All eyes turned towards them in shock. Goblets hit the marble floors sending wine in all directions.


	3. Act III

The Goddess Demeter was the first to react to their return as she stood and began to applaud their arrival. Her daughter Persephone joined in followed by Hermes, Ares, Eros and Aphrodite. 

Zeus stood, and the Hall fell into silence as they waited for him to speak. His eyes fell onto Hermione and then to the boy by her side. He gave them a radiant smile and opened his arms.

“It’s about time you made it home. I was starting to question your abilities. Well done my son, come, sit beside me and regale us with your brave deed,” Zeus said as his booming voice filled the cavernous room.

Hermione was expecting to feel something towards him, but all she felt was scorn. Barring Leandros from embracing his father, Hermione’s eyes flashed in anger. 

“How dare you. A God you maybe, but a failure at everything else. As a husband, a father, a protector. You have done nothing but cast them all aside, even Hera whom you are supposed to treat and view as an equal, and that great injustice should have told her, and them all, what would have occurred to them. Far too many of my sisters were lost to your callousness. They threw themselves into the path of Cetus just so that they could be reunited with their children. You praise and accept my son, a hero, yet deny the others you’ve sired out of shame and irresponsibility.

And so, if you think I am going to let my son anywhere near you, you can think again. For years we have suffered on your island. We were not created for your pleasure. We are manifestations of nature. Without us, you wouldn’t have your trees, streams and grapes for your wine and yet you deem it acceptable to cast us aside when it suits you. Not anymore! Your days of treating us as broodmares are over. Or is that too much for your little brain to comprehend?” Hermione asked as she walked over to Zeus, eyes burning with barely controllable rage.

Zeus smirked and rolled his eyes, “And you think that you, a nymph _,_ can defeat me; a God?”.

“Don’t speak to my mother that way!” Leandros interjected in anger as he ran to his mother’s side, sword in hand.

“I used to tell my son stories of your greatness: of how you defeated Kronos and brought peace to the world. Now, all I see is someone so drunk on power that they would destroy the things that matter most—their children. By sending us away, and by fearing for your life, you have shown me that you are not immortal. You can laugh and joke Zeus, but we are not afraid of you. You can banish us, torture us and punish us, but you will never be rid of us. Everywhere you look, every nymph in your bed is our kin, and we will tell all who will listen of the trials we have had to endure, of the loved ones we have lost. 

The heart of any loving woman is a foolish thing to betray. When your wine sours on your tongue and burns through your veins. Or when the delicacies in your banquet rot at your touch. When your eyes slip along the curve of another one of my sisters. And you wonder as you take her to your bed whether she knows of your sins...I hope you think of us.” Hermione said as she calmed her son’s anger by stroking her fingers through his blond hair. 

“After all, in all the lies, denials, and attempts to be rid of us, it is clear who you fear. Whose influence truly reigns over this court. Perhaps you could try bringing her pleasure for a change, lest it is only your godhood and not your skills that truly make a woman _responsive_.”

Hermione smiled when she heard her sisters cheer in support of their cause, each one of them stepping towards the Gods who were beginning to look more and more uncomfortable as the reality of their numbers outweighed their own.

Zeus swallowed roughly before bowing to her in concession. Beaming at the knowledge that they had been successful, Hermione watched her kin disperse from whence they’d come, returning to their homes, no longer at risk of being exiled for bedding a God. She scanned the room and found Hermes, watching intently as the crowd filtered out as if he were searching for someone. Hermione followed his gaze as it finally settled on a young nymph she recognised as Damia. She seemed to have been waiting for him to find her, flashing a soft grateful smile and nodding, before filing out with the others. 

~*~

All those years wondering why he would warn and take a stubborn headed nymph, intent on saving her kin to a torturous island, with no way back, she finally understood. Taking her son by the hand, she led him out down the halls and into the thickest forest Leandros had ever seen before coming to a clearing where a Satyr sat playing a set of panpipes as a blonde nymph sat at his feet with a dreamy expression on her face.

Despite knowing that their troubles were over, Hermione found sleep would not come. Tossing and turning and struggling to get comfortable. Rising, Hermione trod silently down to the river bank and froze when she saw that she wasn’t alone. There running her fingers through the still waters was Hera; Zeus’ wife and the reason for her banishment. 

“Please don’t let me disturb you,” Hera said as she looked at Hermione over her shoulder.

“Why are you here?” Hermione asked as her eyes darted back to where she knew her son was sleeping soundly.

“Do not fret. I mean your son no harm. I came to apologise. I was angry and hurt. Instead of taking that out on my husband, I turned my attention to you,” Hera said apologetically. 

She unfastened her gown, leaving it discarded on the bank as she stepped into the water, “My husband is the only one I have ever lain with. It wasn’t my choice, and I have been punishing his whores ever since. Even bearing his children was never enough. Would you make love to me? I want to know what it feels like to be cherished. Many have tried and been punished, but Zeus daren’t go up against you out of fear that you will carry out your threats.” Hera explained, blushing slightly under the light of the full moon.

Hermione nodded. Disrobing, she joined the Goddess in the water. It was cold and refreshing against her skin. Embracing Hera, Hermione kissed her lips softly and sweetly. She was pleased to see she had caught the Goddess off guard and used this as an opportunity to slide her tongue into Hera’s mouth. She tasted of honey and ambrosia, and it was the sweetest combination Hermione had ever tasted. Her hand came to cup one of Hera’s breasts, and she palmed it gently, eliciting a moan from Hera’s lips. 

Breaking away, Hermione kissed down the Goddess’ throat, gasping at how much Hera’s pulse was fluttering against her lips. Kissing across her collarbone, Hermione dipped her head to capture a nipple between her lips, lavishing it with the flat of her tongue. Hera was incredibly expressive as she moaned and arched her back wantonly. Hermione continued to lavish Hera’s breasts with her tongue and lips, working her up into a frenzy of need. She looked up when a tentative hand cupped her own breast. It seemed to fit perfectly in the Goddess’ palm, and the way she was toying with the flesh was sending ripples of delight to her sex.

Hermione led Hera to the bank and laid her down against it before kissing and licking at Hera’s stomach before reaching the Goddess’ most prized possession. Her sex was glorious, wet from the stream and her arousal. Hermione felt like she was floating on air as she leant in and began licking Hera's slit and across her sensitive nub. Hands tangled in her hair and it took all of Hermione’s patience not to bury her tongue inside her wet heat and feast upon like she used to with her sister Luna. 

Hera it seemed was experiencing sensations she never had before if her cries and whimpers were anything to go by. Hermione teased Hera’s entrance with her finger before sliding the moistened digit inside, stroking her front walls seeking out the sensitive bundle of nerves that always left Hermione trembling. Hermione felt Hera clamp around her finger and stiffen underneath her as the Goddess experienced her climax. It felt as though Hera’s cries would never end.

“I want to taste you,” Hera said once she had come down from her high. 

Licking her lips, Hermione travelled up Hera’s body before presenting the Goddess with her bare cunt. She was surprised at just how quickly Hera was able to discover just where she was most sensitive as her folds and clit were manipulated. Her climax was perhaps not quite so powerful, but Hera seemed pleased with her achievement.

Hermione spent the rest of the night showing Hera the pleasures of a woman, and how she too could make herself come without the need to have Zeus in her bed. Just as the first few rays broke on the horizon, Hermione was sad to discover that Hera was gone and she was once again alone. Once again, she had fallen prey to an Olympian and yet, Hermione wasn’t bitter. The small peacock pin by her side filled her with hope, and she prayed that the deity would revisit her that night.


End file.
